


Black Me Out

by EggmansGayLover (MarkingArt)



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Social Transitioning, Trans Male Character, dysphoria tw, pre-transition trans character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkingArt/pseuds/EggmansGayLover
Summary: Cutting his hair leads Stone through a chain of events that he never would have expected, but is endlessly grateful for.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 7
Kudos: 94





	Black Me Out

**Author's Note:**

> Before this starts I wanna put a trigger warning for dysphoria, this fic is about a trans male character beginning his social transition. There is some minor transphobia and sexism near the end. I hope y'all enjoy this! (Title is from a song by Against Me!)

His hands trembled minutely, the latte in his grip threatening to spill as he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He shouldn't have done what he did.

Last night his only binder, worn and frayed as it was, had torn apart at the seams on the side. In a fit of dysphoria-induced rage, he had taken a pair of blunt scissors to his shoulder-length hair. He came out of the flurry an hour later with a choppy pixie cut and tears in his eyes.

But Robotnik would notice. He would undoubtedly notice and be angry; he hated change. 

Stone was a wreck that day. He walked into the office wearing two undersized layered sports bras under his modest dress. The same one Robotnik had given him as his uniform on his first day. He still remembered the heavy feeling in his chest as he realized the uniforms were not unisex.

He wiped away the uneven fringe clinging to his forehead with sweat and pushed open the door to the lab. A pleasant, beaming smile appeared on his face immediately. He never had to fake it around his boss.

Robotnik was hunched over his desk. He gestured to his right with a hum, indicating where Stone should put his latte. A glance and a fleeting smile was directed at him as he set the cup down. He turned back to where he was fiddling with a Badnik and froze. He turned his head slowly back to his personal agent. His eyes were searching. Piercing and far too knowing as they roved from his hair to his chest and back again.

“You cut your hair.” He tastefully neglected to mention the new ill-fittedness of his dress. It had been tailored to the semi-flat chest that came with wearing a binder, not the odd lumps that were a result of layered sports bras.

“Yes, doctor.” 

“It looks like shit.” His heart sank. Why did that hurt so bad? He had been expecting it.

Robotnik stood from his chair, pushing past Stone, who shrunk into himself, and strode to one of his many cabinets, pulling it open and rummaging through it. From it he produced a little toiletry bag.

“Here, sit in my chair. I’m going to fix it up for you. Did you even use a mirror when you did it?” When Stone only looked numbly at him bearing a confused smile, Robotnik sighed. He tossed the bag onto his desk and gently maneuvered his agent into the chair with little struggle.

“W- Doctor what are you doing?”

“I told you, I’m fixing your hair. I cut my own, so I should be able to do yours without any trouble. Unfortunately that rat’s nest on your head doesn’t compliment your face shape.” He pulled out a pair of high-tech cordless clippers

The clippers barely buzzed when he turned them on to test them. But he plucked out a pair of shears rather than bringing the buzzers to Stone’s hair.

“Your hair is still pretty long. Way too long for your face shape, and it’s unprofessional to keep it long without styling it. When I’m done you’ll barely have to worry about styling.” Stone couldn’t see what he was doing without a mirror, but he could feel large chunks of his hair being lopped off. Each tuft of hair flying past his ears brought a sense of excitement and dread. Was this a trick? Was he going to shave his head to shame him? Or would he finally have the masculine haircut he was always too afraid to get?

After pulling back and assessing the progress he had made, Robotnik hummed and switched the shears out for the clippers. He set the adjustable guard to a higher setting, and pressed them to the side of Stone’s head. 

Time passed through a mucky haze, too fast and yet too slow. Stone had yet to figure out Robotnik’s intentions. He surely wasn’t helping out of the good of his heart, he never did.

“Doctor…?”

“What?” He snapped irritably as he was interrupted from the task at hand.

“Why are you doing this?” He cleared his throat, and Stone could have sworn he saw him flush out of the corner of his eye.

“You need to be looking your best at all times. You’re always with me, and I can’t have you tainting my reputation.” That was a sensible reason. But somehow Stone doubted that it was truly the case.

Robotnik had been quickly switching guard sizes and working diligently to fade his hair. He grinned as he stepped back and placed the clippers back into the bag. A handheld mirror was produced, which was handed to him.

He almost hesitated to look. But he teared up when he did.

It was very short, much shorter than even Robotnik’s. But it was faded perfectly and framed his face so naturally. He looked like a professional young man.

“I- I don’t know what to say, Doctor.”

“Well, do you like it?”

“It’s perfect.” Robotnik chuckled, swiping the excess hair off the nape of his neck.

“Of course it is. Now don’t get emotional on me, Mrs. Stone. Or, would you prefer a different title?” His blood went cold, hands clamming up. What a loaded question.

“M-Mister is fine.”

“Just as I expected. Now that our little escapade is done with, let’s get to work. I want to work on a personal project today.”

For the rest of the day, Robotnik had him stand in the corner of the lab furthest from the desk, not allowing him to even peek at his project. He had brought out some sort of sewing machine, and Stone could hear the repetitive thrum of it punctuated with the occasional near-silent exclamations of excitement.

It was noon before either of them knew it, and just like always, Stone made to move towards the door to get their lunch.

“Go home, Agent. I have some other matters to attend to soon. Take the rest of the day off, watch a movie, whatever. I’ll get my own lunch and then I’ll be out for the day.” How unusual. He never got breaks unless he was sick or otherwise needed them. But he wasn’t one to question Robotnik.

“Yes, sir. Have a good day.” He shut the door to the lab gently behind him.

His night at home was as relaxing as it could have been, considering the events of the day. He showered off the prickly hair remaining on his shoulders and spent longer than he’d like to admit admiring his new haircut in the mirror. His heart still sank at the sight of his old binder in the bathroom trash can. He would order a new one as soon as he had the money saved up. 

He curled up on the couch in his pajamas with Robot and Nik beside him to watch a movie. They purred on either side of his lap and before the movie was even halfway through, he found his eyelids growing heavy

His head jolted up at the sound of the doorbell, Robot scurrying off of where he had found his way onto his lap. He wasn’t expecting any guests. He nervously pulled up his security camera app and relaxed upon seeing the mailman already walking away. A package was on his doorstep.

He hadn’t ordered anything though.

Stone rubbed his eyes and checked the time. 7:00 PM. He must’ve been more tired than he thought, to have slept that long.

He figured the package was meant for his neighbors and given to him by mistake, but when he picked it up and checked the label, he was shocked to find it made out to ‘A. Stone”. That was him.

Curiosity and anxiety filled him as he brought the package in. It had no other information besides his address and name. It was rather large, and packet full with what felt to be fabric.

Years of training told him to be wary as he ripped it open, but he relaxed upon pulling the contents out. A… suit? 

It was a charcoal grey suit. Something fell onto the ground as he carefully unfolded it. He retrieved it with confusion. It looked like a tank top. Stretchy material combined with a fine, soft mesh panel running down the length of the front on the inside. Oh.

It was a binder. It was black and sleek, and didn’t have a separated binding panel on the chest like his old binders did. He peered into the package and found a note. It was in a handwriting he would recognize anywhere.

_ Dear Stone _

_ I did some research on how to properly support the trans people in your life when the realization of your situation came to me. You’ll have to tell me your preferred first name, but for now I hope these gifts and proper pronouns and titles will suffice. I had the suit tailored to the measurements I got from you when I gave you your old uniform. I expect you to wear this every day, just as you did your old uniform as well. The chest binder I made myself. I found a disturbing lack of healthy chest binding methods when I did my research, and thought that making you my own version of a ‘binder’ would be my best option. I hope you find it more comfortable than whatever you had been using before; god knows it’s safer. You are an invaluable asset to my life and I need you at your best always. Whatever else I can do to ensure this, tell me immediately.  _

_ Robotnik _

He didn’t notice the tears welling in his eyes until his vision was too blurred to read the letter again. It was always one of his greatest dreads that Robotnik, or anyone else would find out that he was trans. But now that he knew he was supportive… it didn’t feel so bad.

The last time he came out to anyone was his parents. Just as he turned 18. He sat them down and explained how he felt.

He was packing his bags less than an hour later.

That part of himself had been shoved deep down inside since then, save for a binder under his uniforms and an online male persona by the name of ‘Aban’.

He made his way to the bathroom, excitement speeding his steps. Binder in hand, he shut the door behind him. He didn’t need Robot or Nik pestering him.

Stripping off his pajama shirt, he pointedly turned away from the mirror. The tank-style binder was easy to pull over his head, much easier than his old ones. It barely constricted his breathing at all. He slowly turned back to the mirror. If it was this comfortable there was no way it would do its job.

But it did. He gaped like a fish. His chest wasn’t flat, but rather it relocated and compressed the fat into the shape of pecs that were perfectly proportionate to his muscular arms. Even the stubborn fat on his hips was compressed subtly. He could’ve sobbed out loud.

He forced himself to take it off and fold it neatly on top of the suit, which got the same treatment. After taking his pills and laying down for the night, he was out like a light.

Getting ready the next morning was exhilarating. No more sad grey dress. No more painful threadbare binders. 

The heart in the foam of the latte seemed to be extra big that day, as he covered it with a lid. A sound of confusion had him turning, latte in hand, to see his coworker behind him.

“Uh- who are you?” Their brows furrowed. Familiar, but not the person they knew.

“It’s me- Stone.” They smiled confusedly, but quickly relaxed their brows.

“You’ve had quite the makeover, Stone. Looking good.” He grinned at them before he began his trek to the lab on spry feet.

“I have your latte, doctor.” The man spun in his chair, meeting Stone’s wild grin with a small smile.

“I see you received my package. I really deserve a pat on the back for this one. You look great.” He turned back to his desk and gestured to where he wanted his latte. Business as usual. Stone didn’t know if he appreciated the casual behavior more than the intense acceptance.

“We have an important meeting with Major What’s-His-Name, we should probably get going right now.”

The drive to the site was silent. Robotnik focused on his phone and latte and Stone focused on him. Their driver was thankfully silent.

Stepping from the car, they were able to spot Bennington immediately. An imposing figure he made, in the middle of the bustle of the base. Stone shuddered at the memory of the comments he had made at his expense last time they met. It was to nobody’s surprise that he was a raging sexist piece of work.

“Ah, Robotnik. You've taken on a new assistant. One with more sensible shoes this time.” Robotnik sneered, and with a fidget of his fingers, his Badniks were hovering around him and Stone. 

“I don’t believe I asked for your opinion on the matter. Besides, this is the same  _ personal agent _ I’ve always had.” His head tilted and he squinted, scrutinizing Stone.

“Jesus, it really is. Why have you dressed her up like that? A nice lady shouldn’t be dressed like a man. Not to mention that hair.” The drones’ red camera lights grew brighter, and they angled themselves toward the blond man. He still didn’t notice.

“It’s he, actually. He’s also not a lady.” Bennington pinched the bridge of his nose, chalking the words up to Robotnik’s antics.

“Whatever. Bring her along, I have something to show you.” But he didn’t begin walking. Because Robotnik had turned to Stone and away from Bennington.

“How are your cats, agent? You never did tell me their names. I quite like animals, you know.”

“Uh- they’re good, sir. Why aren’t you- what are you doing?” Robotnik raised his voice, ensuring the other man could hear them.

“I won’t address him properly until he addresses you properly.” Bennington groaned.

“Fine. Both you  _ men _ come this way.” Robotnik had a smug spring in his step as he followed him. Stone smiled

The meeting was boring. They wanted to propose some new ideas to Robotnik, who promptly shut them down for being inhumane. Bennington continued to refer to Stone properly, with the threat of deadly Badniks mere feet away from him. It was the trip home that was interesting.

“Thank you for… defending me. If that’s the best way to say it.” Seated in the back seat again, their knees rubbed together in a way that made butterflies flit in Stone’s stomach. “Why do you do that? I’m just your agent.”

“Because I care about you.” Robotnik blurted. His face scrunched up, but he soldiered on. “As much as it pains me, I want to see you happy and comfortable. Whether you see yourself as a man or a woman or otherwise, I will support you. Because not only do I need you at your best, I  _ want  _ you at your best.”

Stone smiled. He didn’t have to go through this alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this! It was super self indulgent and wasn't supposed to end up as long as it did (I was thinking maybe 500 words) and it's not the best but all positive/constructive feedback is appreciated greatly.


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